Page 25 of Bound in Blood (Vampires of Boston #1)

Chapter

Seventeen

MARCO

M arco woke with thoughts of fireworks and verb conjugations playing in the back of his mind.

The older he got, the more he was realizing he would wake up unsure of what year it was, or whose bed he was in.

The feeling would pass in a moment or two, but for those few dozen seconds, there was always a slight disorientation, like his mind had to catch up with the immortality.

The man snuggled into his chest smelled like Marco’s own soap, like eucalyptus and mint.

Right, Logan. He breathed in, the smell of him uninterrupted by the metallic scent of humanity.

The feral part of Marco was practically purring.

Logan was his. Well, Logan was theirs, but whatever Marco had belonged to Mateo anyway.

He couldn’t help the slow grin that spread across his face at the thought.

Marco blinked open his eyes, not quite ready to move yet.

The more he got to know the boy he had accidentally turned, the more he needed to be near him.

Logan, even sleeping, was magnetic. Marco’s fingers curled lightly around the other man’s hip, and possessive vampire genes caused by a mating bond or not, Marco would rather die than let Logan go.

He lay there, watching his mate breathe for he wasn’t sure how long, before Logan finally, finally began to stir. Marco, who knew subconsciously he did not need to breathe, found himself holding his breath until Logan’s eyes fluttered open, sleepy and unfocused.

“Hey.” Logan yawned, smiling sleepily up at Marco.

“Good morning,” Marco replied awkwardly. God, it had been decades since he’d been so nervous around a man. Though he’d never been irreversibly bound to anybody else he’d ever slept with, to be fair.

“S’not morning,” Logan mumbled, blinking slowly, like he could fall back asleep at any moment, “S’like… five in the evening.”

Marco huffed a quiet laugh, tracing circles over Logan’s hip with his thumb. “Sunrise, sunset, all the same thing.”

Logan looked back up at him, a hint of seriousness in his eyes as his brain woke up a bit more. “How often do we need to… eat? Drink? Feed? Whatever it’s called.”

“Twice a week or so, depending. I suppose it’s a bit like human eating, if you’re more active, you’ll need more.”

Logan hummed in acknowledgment, stretching slightly, his body shifting against where Mateo basically had him pinned.

“Keep grinding your ass into me like that and the next time you feed, you’ll be tied to this bed.” Mateo groaned. “Seriously, you are a professional tease.”

“Who, me?” Logan asked, voice dripping with mock innocence, shifting his hips again, pressing further into Mateo. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t start something you don’t plan on finishing, tesoro ,” Mateo growled.

“To be fair, I always intend to finish what I start, but we keep getting interrupted.” Logan looked up at Marco. “But I don’t work Wednesdays, and we have nothing planned, right, Marco?” He batted his eyes like a cartoon character. Marco, unfortunately, found it incredibly adorable.

He smirked, tilting Logan’s chin up with two fingers, loving the way Logan was so reactive under his touch. “No plans that can’t be rearranged,” he said, his voice dipping a little lower.

He had made some sort of plans the night before, hadn’t he, though? Oh well, it couldn’t be too important if he had already forgotten.

“As much as I hate being the responsible twin, if we make Alexei wait, he will announce to the entire vicinity why.” Mateo pointed out. Ah, fuck. That’s what it had been. A debrief with Alexei.

Marco sighed, flopping back against the pillow. He could feel Logan trying to follow him before being yanked back by Mateo.

“How many times can we possibly be cockblocked by the same guy?” Logan sighed.

“You have no idea,” Mateo and Marco both replied in unison. They’d known Alexei for eighty-ish years, and this had become a terrible habit of his. Marco, in the past, had treated it as a vague annoyance.

Typically, there was no shortage of men looking to fulfill some sort of fantasy by having a threesome with twins.

It was a way to ensure all the attention was on themselves, and for Marco and Mateo to guarantee that they’d both feed.

Practically symbiotic. In the past, if Alexei had some stupid task for them that prevented fucking one man, the twins would just find another.

But now, they just had Logan. And fuck, if he couldn’t get inside Logan within the next couple of days, he might have to kill the Russian, rogue vampire be damned.

“So, I guess we have two options,” Logan said, wiggling free of Mateo’s grasp before lying flat on his back. “We could be responsible, get up, get dressed, whatever, whatever… or… we could pretend you forgot. Personally, my vote goes to forgetting.”

Mateo snorted, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at Logan. “Great idea. Until, of course, he breaks into our house and lectures us.”

“I could think of a couple of things we could do to keep him out of this room,” Logan offered, looking Mateo up and down. Marco was sure he hadn’t blushed in at least seventy years before Logan, and now the stolen blood in his body was making up for lost time.

“What the hell did you let into our house, Marco? He’s relentless!” Mateo groaned, flopping onto his back dramatically.

“ Me? ” Marco huffed indignantly “I seem to remember a certain someone stopping in the middle of the street to chase down his scent, which means this is your fault.”

Logan, while showing no outward symptoms of pride, seemed to inwardly preen through the bond. God, he was easy to please. Marco wanted to strangle everyone who had ever interacted with Logan before them.

Mateo put on a slightly deeper voice than his own, even though Marco wasn’t sure they sounded all that different, “‘ He’s our responsibility, mio fratello, we need to take him home! We stole his humanity, how could we ever live with ourselves?’ And the whole time, you have invited some sort of… sex demon into our house!”

Logan let out an exaggerated gasp, putting a hand over his heart. “ Sex demon? This is the best compliment I’ve ever received.” He leaned into Mateo’s space, his legs tangling with the other man’s. “Say it again, slower this time.”

Mateo groaned, half from exasperation and half from the horny fledgling practically writhing over his lap. “I hate him. Return to sender.” But he didn’t make a move to shove Logan away, and Marco was sure that with a little more teasing, Logan might realize he’d bitten off more than he could chew.

“You’re lying. I can feel it through the bond. But fine, I suppose we can be responsible for an hour or so.” He untangled his legs to give Mateo room to stand, before turning to Marco, smiling up at him. “You really fought to keep me?”

“Wasn’t much of a fight,” Marco said honestly.

“I mean, there was a little fight when I was actually turning you, but after that…” He cradled Logan’s cheek in his.

“If I’d have known you are so much better than good smelling blood and a pretty face, though, you might not have made it out of that bar a human, consequences be damned. ”

Logan’s lips parted slightly, expression darkening just a little as he processed what Marco had said. Seriously, had nobody ever even liked Logan? What is wrong with Texas?

“We’ll be revisiting that later for sure,” Logan drawled, mischief returning to his eyes. “You can’t just say romantic shit like ‘God Logan you’re so hot and taste good’ when you’re trying to get me out of bed.”

“Actually, I believe I said you’re hot and you taste good, but your personality is better than both of those things,” Marco corrected.

“I’m going to throw up. Get fucking dressed so we can get this over with,” Mateo sighed, pulling a t-shirt from the floor over his head.

He paused, before leveling a heated stare at their mate.

“But, Logan, when we no longer have stupid obligations, you’re going to put your money where your mouth is. ”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Logan said, rolling out of bed and onto the floor before standing to get dressed.

Mateo threw him one of his own shirts, which he caught, slipping it over his head before going to his own room to look for pants.

Marco sighed, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, shamelessly admiring Logan’s ass as he left the room, before standing to do the same.

As Marco made for the door, he stole a glance at Mateo, who was watching Logan with the same unashamed hunger Marco felt. Like being responsible and having time constraints was for people whose time would eventually run out.

“I think sex demons are traditionally called ‘incubus,’” Marco offered from the doorway. “Next time you’re looking to encourage him to make us late.”

Mateo groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Do you know how hard it is for me to be responsible? And where were you? Not helping.”

Marco smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Because I was fine with being late. I had his mouth on me for all of two seconds before that idiot interrupted. If it had been you, you’d have understood.”

He went to his room, grabbing a pair of navy-blue trousers and a button-down only a couple of shades lighter, dressing quickly and returning, somehow, at the same time as Logan.

Mateo’s shirt was adorably a couple of sizes too big for him, so he’d tucked it into his white-washed jeans, which he’d cuffed to show off a pair of Doc Martens, that he was clearly very proud of.

He looked very punk, despite the baby face, curly ginger hair, and freckled skin.

“Y’all ready?” he asked. “Uber will be here in five. I assumed we’re meeting at The Pyre?”

The name really was obvious, now that Marco thought about it.

“You look…” Mateo started.

“Hot, I know.” Logan flashed a grin, and Marco couldn’t help but notice his slightly longer canines.